


Pull me into the speed

by zombieutopia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - No supernatural, Anonymous Sex, Bottom!Cas, Castiel Gives Oral Sex, Deepthroating, Destiel - Freeform, Drinking, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Fluffy Ending, Frottage, Kinktober, Kinktober 2018, M/M, Masquerade Masks, Oral Sex, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Stanford Era, Supposed to be PWP but that didn't work out, top!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-24 08:47:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16171673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombieutopia/pseuds/zombieutopia
Summary: Sam drags Dean to a college party that ends up being far more interesting than he initially expected.





	Pull me into the speed

**Author's Note:**

> Oh no...I got plot in my porn...oops.
> 
>  
> 
> Original Prompt: Deep Throating 
> 
>  
> 
> This isn't beta'd. I hope its alright despite that! I'll probably come back over this once October is over and do a round of editing for shits and giggles.
> 
> Title is from the song 'Adrenalize' by In This Moment.

Dean had rolled his eyes nearly hard enough to hurt when Sam handed him the invitation. Playing dress up with a bunch of rich assholes was not how he wanted to spend a Friday night, but no amount of bitching or teasing could seem to wipe the pleading puppy-dog eyes off of his little brother’s annoying face.

When Sam sweetened the request with the added promise of free food and free booze, Dean decided he might just be able to put up with some prissy college kids for a night. Maybe. He wasn’t exactly sure why Sam was so dead set on him being there but hey, who was he to say no to free shit?

Two weeks later, Dean pulled the Impala up behind a black BMW along a neighborhood curb and threw her into park. The road was lined with nice, shiny new vehicles and Dean felt a little twinge of pride in his classy Baby. That feeling quickly faded as he watched the stream of men and women, all dressed up in nice clothes and elaborate masks, making their way up to a large, colonial-style house. Large greek letters decorated the wall above the front door.

“Seriously, man. You hang out with these fraternity douchebags?” Dean asked. Sam shot him an amused, tolerant smile.

“Not really. But I have a few friends that do, and it's for a good cause.”

“Then why didn’t you make one of them come with you?” Dean said, face scrunched up in distaste. He could tell he was whining but couldn’t seem to stop himself.

“Because I wanted to hang out with my brother. Now quit your bitching and put this on.” Sam said, tossing a mask into Dean’s lap. He ignored it, opting instead to watch Sam slip is own mask onto his stupid face.

The thing looked like glossy dark red leather, shaped into something sharp and angular and obscuring the top half of Sam’s face. The slanted eye holes were rimmed in gold and large black ram’s horns curled back from the forehead. It looked like it should be heavy as hell but Sam fastened it onto his head with nothing more than a single red ribbon. It matched Sam’s new - and probably too damn expensive - black suit perfectly.

Dean looked down at his own charcoal grey suit; it was a little worn and faded around the edges but still fit him in all the right ways. He had bought it when he had first starting working at the garage and wore it every time he needed dressing up. But the mask resting in his lap was new and it looked just as intricate as Sam’s. Moulded to fit across the nose and eyes, it was made of inky black cloth and shiny plastic; reminding Dean strongly of black smoke with how it radiated out in irregular spikes, fading out to grey along the edges.

“Sammy...how much did all this cost you?” Dean asked carefully. He wasn't supporting Sam anymore but couldn't help the little twinge of worry and guilt about his brother wasting cash on him. For a party, nonetheless. Sam shrugged as he continued to mess with his hair around the mask’s horns.

“Don’t worry about it.”

A frown creased Dean’s face as he fingered one of the black plastic spikes.

“But where did you get the cash, man?”

Sam turned to look at Dean with a flash of annoyance.

“I had some loan money leftover after tuition and bills. It's fine, Dean. Now stop stalling and lets go,” Sam said, popping open his door and climbing from the car, cutting off any further arguments Dean might have had.

Dean lifted his mask and pressed it against his face, hastily tying the black ribbon behind his head. He felt ridiculous but at least it fit. With a deep breath he exited the car and followed Sam into the house.

He had expected some super stuffy event with classical music and wait staff and formal dances he wouldn’t have the first clue about, but the moment they passed through the front door that expectation shattered. It looked... like a party. The house was packed; everywhere he looked there were masked people mingling, eating, and dancing in the dim, gloomy lighting. The slow, heavy rock that pulsed through the speaker system set a weirdly sensual vibe to the whole affair.

“See? Told you it wouldn’t be that bad,” Sam said, leaning into him so he could be heard over the din, as Dean stared at the masked strangers milling about.

Tables set by the front door offered up a range of drinks and snacks and they each snagged something to drink before heading deeper into the house. Sam lead him by his elbow, pulling him through the maze of people and rooms. There was something about the anonymity of it; shifting eyes behind glittering masks was alluring in a way Dean couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Jess, I want you to meet my brother,” Sam announced and Dean wrenched his head back around front and center to find Sam standing with an arm around a blonde girl in a white wispy dress and a crystal beaded mask. Her hair was tousled stylishly and her lips were pink and shiny with some form of gloss; she looked like the epitome of sugary sweet sex.

So that's why Sam had insisted on dragging him to a college frat party instead of their usual beers and wings over a game of pool at the local dive bar. The eager, earnest look on his little brother’s face was too adorable and just begging for Dean to fuck with. Just a little. Call it payback for dragging him to a frat party.

Dean took a sip of his whiskey and gave the girl - Jess - standing in front of him a cocky smile.

“Hey, I’m Dean and you…” Dean gave her an exaggerated look up and down, “are way too good for my brother!”

The mask did nothing to hide Sam’s full blown bitchface as he tightened the arm around his girlfriend but Jess didn’t look remotely put out, she merely arched an eyebrow his way and took a sip of her champaign.

Sam clenched teeth, jaw muscles twitching, and met Dean’s smile with a glare.

“Good to meet you, Dean. I’ve heard a lot,” she said smoothly, giving the ‘a lot’ a little more weight. Deciding Sam had probably been pushed about as far as Dean could playfully get away with, he traded the cocky smile for a genuine one.

“It's good to meet you too, Jess, and I have no doubt you have,” Dean said, laughing, but a brief glance told him Sam wasn’t dropping the grumpy face so easily. He rolled his eyes. “Come on, man! Have you met me? I had to mess with you.”

“Whatever, jerk.” Sam said and sipped at his beer.

“Bitch.” Dean countered. Jess bounced her eyebrows just a bit higher before she decided to clear her throat and change the subject.

“Right. So, how are you guys enjoying the party? Pretty great turn out, right?”

The three of them fell into fairly easy chit-chat over their drinks. They talked about the party, their masks, how Sam and Jess had met and how Dean had supported Sam all throughout high school and his first year in college. Dean liked her; she was smart and funny and Sam seemed completely smitten. After a while, their conversation was interrupted by several of Sam and Jess’s friends joining them and, after quick introductions were made, the discussion veered towards classes and assignments and topics Dean had no interest in. It didn’t take long for his attention to drift back to the party around them, settling himself against the nearby wall to sip at his whiskey and people watch.

There were easily a few dozen people dancing in the middle of the room to music that still thrummed at a steady, heady pace. It wasn’t the kind of music Dean would normally choose to listen to, but he couldn’t deny that it was oddly fitting for the party. He was just started to grow bored, the idea of loading up on the previously promised free food sounding better and better, when his eye caught on a figure in the crowd.

Dean watched as the man swayed, eyes closed, with the music; graceful and rhythmic in a way Dean found hard to look away from. He wore a simple white button up shirt, lightly damp with sweat and wrinkled from movement, and black slacks; he was lean and muscled in a way the clothing couldn’t hide. His face was obscured by a mask of black feathers that covered everything but his stubbled jaw, the feathers at the top curling back to blend in with his dark, messy hair.

He was hot.

Dean had to work to keep himself from staring, tried to make his eyes roam the room over people and interesting masks and couples making out in darker corners, but couldn’t seem to help how his eyes slid back to him every few seconds.

After a few minutes, Dean used his empty glass as an excuse to slip away. Sam had simply nodded his acknowledgement before turning back to some debate he had fallen into with one of the other law students as Dean waved his goodbye and set off through the crowd.

He b-lined his way to the drinks table and refilled his glass with another few fingers of whiskey which, judging by how smooth it was, was probably more expensive than anything he had ever bought. Ever. After taking an appreciative sip, he made his way around the mass of writhing bodies in the middle of the room before finally settling himself down on an overstuffed couch. He slouched into the cushions, head swimming in the heat and the liquor and the pounding base, and let his eyes roam over the crowd that nearly brushed his knees.

It didn’t take long before his eyes found their way back to the man in the feathered mask again; dancing alone at the heart of the crowd, eyes closed and lips slightly parted. And okay, he wasn’t just hot...the man bordered on straight up beautiful, even with half of his face covered. Dean felt a small spike of arousal twist in his stomach, he chased after it with another mouthful of whiskey and tried to feel just a little bit bad about having intentionally moved to the couch to creep on some random dude.

Dean had held out a little hope that he’d managed to be at least a little subtle in his leering, but those hopes were quickly dashed when the guy opened his eyes and looked right at Dean, giving him a flirty wink and a smile without missing a beat. Dean felt a flash of heat creep up into his face, burning his ears, as he ducked his head to really focus on contemplating the amber liquid in his cup before knocking back the last mouthful.

He then promptly, because he’s just that smooth, choked on said mouthful as he saw the guy stop dancing and weave his way through the dancefloor heading straight toward him.

Before he was really sure what was happening, Dean had been pulled up off the couch, the feather-masked cutie leading him along by his hand into the dense crush of bodies.

When they had reached somewhere near the middle, Cutie picked up where he had left off and Dean stared down in confused wonder as he reached out and pulled Dean against him, grinding their hips together and pulling them both into the movement. Dancing to music that was both too fast and too slow.

The little spark of arousal Dean had felt was suddenly a bonfire coursing through his veins; a heavy heat flooding low in his groin.

It wasn’t long before Dean was half hard in his slacks, damp with sweat and head fuzzy with craving; their hands groping and grabbing, as their bodies moved together in rhythm. He was just about to tap out, call it quits before things got even more inappropriate for public gatherings, but Cutie seemed to be able to read his mind and beat him to it.

Fingers laced through his own and pulled him through the crowd until they were out the other side and heading towards a hallway. Dean caught the briefest of glances of Sammy at the far end of the house, still talking animatedly with Jess and their friends. He felt a brief peng of guilt for ditching his brother but that thought was eradicated from him brain as the delicious man guiding him away from the party turned them around a corner and pushed his way into a dark room, flicking on the lights to reveal two queen sized beds, a few side tables, and sparse decorations. Dean’s mouth went a little dry as he stepped inside the room and heard the door close behind him.

Dean turned and found the guy standing a few feet from him, looking up with startlingly deep, blue eyes and a small smile.

“Is this...okay?” The man asked and his voice was far deeper than Dean would have guessed; rich and rough in a way that sent sparks running down his spine and definitely had his dick paying attention. Dean swallowed.

“Hell yeah,” Dean said, voice raspy, barely above a whisper, as he gave an enthusiastic nod. It seemed the only encouragement either of them needed; Dean managed to yank off his shirt, throwing it to the floor, just before Cutie shoved him back onto the bed and began working on undressing Dean’s lower half. Once he had pulled off Dean’s last sock and his slacks along with it, the guy stood up and gazed down at Dean while he began to slowly undress himself.

Too slowly.

Dean propped himself up on his elbows to watch as layer after layer was peeled off, his cock standing hard and aching against his stomach. The slow build up was killing him. When Dean made a movement to sit up, Cutie simply shook his head - no - with a playful smile creasing his face. Dean groaned in frustration but couldn’t help returning the smile. Every inch of him was wired tight like a guitar string; desperate for the tension to break, for something to give.

He’d had his fair share of one night stands, with both men and women. Some of them had even ranked as some of the best sex he’d ever had, but usually they were rushed, frantic things; both participants racing to the finish line with mutual, selfish abandon.

This slow, teasing pace was intimate and agonizingly enticing. And Dean found himself wanting more of it; his body screaming for everything to speed up and happen while his head was perfectly content for the moment to last forever.

By the time Cutie was stripped just as bare as him, Dean was flushed and feeling more than a little dazed. His eyes followed the trail of dark curly hair from the man’s belly button down to the cock standing dark red and wet between his legs. Dean’s mouth flooded with saliva and he must have swallowed, or something, because Cutie chuckled darkly and licked his lips.

“That pleasure is definitely going to be all mine tonight,”

Dean could feel the warmth of him, smell his sweat and pine-y deodorant as he climbed onto the bed, hovering over him. The mattress bowed under his knees bracketing Dean’s hips and dipped below his hands on either side of his head. His breath caught in his chest for just a moment as he stared up into blue eyes, heavy lidded and pupils blown wide with lust; a single unspoken question in the way a dark eyebrow slowly arched skyward. Dean answered with by wrapping his hands around the man’s slim hips and closed the distance between them, crushing their lips together in a long overdue kiss. Dean’s hard mask dug into his face, scraping against Cutie’s disheveled feathers but he found it really, really hard to care. The kiss was wet and fervent and tasted of spearmint and alcohol; their tongues tying together in knots and they tried to devour each other mouths first.

At some point Dean remembered where his hands were and pulled the delicious man’s hips into a roll forward just as he angled his own hips to meet him; the movement pressed their cocks together, precome easing the way, with just enough force to elicit a gasp from Cutie. Dean moaned and moved his kiss to Cutie’s throat as he moved them again, fingers sliding around to hold an asscheeck with each hand. His nerve endings were buzzing with the sensation of finally being touched and every little shiver that ran through the smaller man above him almost threatened to shove him right over the edge.

His effort to try and squeeze a hand between them was met with a chuckle that bordered on a growl from Cutie as he pulled entirely away from Dean, up and off of him to stand at the foot of the bed.

“Nu-uh. You can’t distract me that easily,” Cutie teased, eyes glinted. Dean pouted at the loss then let out a yelp as arms wrapped around his thighs and tugged him roughly to the edge of the bed so his ass was on the verge of falling off. “Better.”

“Oh fuck,” Dean huffed as he watched Cutie sink to his knees between his legs that hung off the bed. He couldn’t help the flinch that jerked his muscles as he felt calloused fingers trail along his inner thighs, spreading them open. Every ounce of awareness Dean possessed was centered south of his stomach, radiating want and need. Hot breath tickled along one hip bone before it was followed up by a hot tongue, tracing its way down Dean’s hip, lapping up his sweat and musk.

This. This topped all previous one night stands hands down. All of them. And they had barely even started.

Dean felt a little twinge of something like...worry?...at the thought of one night stands but it dissolved almost instantly as Cutie’s hand wrapped around his cock and guided the head past his lips. Dean tensed and moaned as Cutie applied a little pressure with his hand and a little suction with his mouth; bobbing his head further and further down Dean’s cock, hallowing his cheeks as pulled up, and ending every stroke with his tongue swirling around the underside of the tip.

A second hand curled around his balls, rolling and lighting tugging on them as Cutie continued to work Dean’s cock like he was fucking born to do it. Dean’s hand sunk into Cutie’s hair and was rewarded with a deep hum just before Custie swallowed Dean down completely, his nose nestled in Dean’s pubes. The sensation of tight and hot only increased as Cutie tried to swallow around the length of him and Dean’s eyes shot open wide as he came in long, hard spurts down the man’s throat.

Cutie pulled off halfway through, gasping a quick breath before continuing to swallow down Dean’s come and suckle him through the aftershocks. When Dean’s body was little more than a puddle of jello, the man kissed Dean’s inner thigh and crawled up beside him on the bed, collapsing in a heap. After a few ragged breaths, Dean tried to roll over to help Cutie out but was waved off.

“I’m good, handsome. I already came,” he mumbled against the bed and Dean settled back down into the plush comforter and the body heat beside him.

When Dean managed to reconnect his remaining two brain cells back together he turned to look over at the man lying next to him. He was gorgeous. Even more so now that he was spread out on the bed next to him, completely relaxed and drenched in sweat. His eyes were closed behind his mask, now sitting crooked on his face but still successfully hiding his features.

Dean rolled onto his side, towards him, and saw blue eyes flutter open, meeting his gaze. The last of the alcohol had burned off with his orgasm, which made Dean just sober enough to worry if what he was about to do was a bad idea. Maybe the guy wanted to keep things anonymous and simple…a one night stand...

He reached up and tugged at the ribbon still tied firmly behind his head and pulled the mask off his face. A slightly unreadable expression flickered across those blue eye but whatever he was thinking, he kept it to himself.

Dean cleared his throat a little awkwardly. God, the man really was beautiful.

“I...uh...I’m Dean.” Why was he being such a dumbass about this after everything?

A warm smile spread across the man’s face like sweet honey. “Hello Dean.”

A shiver of pleasure rushed through him at the deep gravel of the man's voice, still obviously wrecked from their activities. With a movement that was at least half lazy stretch, he removed his own mask. Dean couldn't help but stare, taking in the laugh lines around his eyes, high cheekbones, and dark scruff that fit the messy mop of dark brown hair.

“I’m Castiel.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos are always greatly appreciated.
> 
>  
> 
> You can also get updates on my writing (And a bunch of random awesome shit I find funny or interesting) on tumblr under the same name!


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